


Coin Flip

by Sogo



Category: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Nightmare Time Episode 6: The Witch in the Web, Nightmare Time Spoilers, time is funny sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29482272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sogo/pseuds/Sogo
Summary: "I killed you.""Only half the time."In a theater of the mind, a protector of children with a book faces off against a disciple with a knife. She loses. Or she wins.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Coin Flip

**Author's Note:**

> I am pretty sure this is not how it actually went down but that isn't gonna stop me from imagining it anyways.
> 
> (Ported over from fanfiction.net because the Hatchetfield fandom over there is damn near non-existent.)

_Left._

Holloway spun left and continued her sprint, feet pounding against the ground-that-wasn’t. She was breathing hard, which she felt was rather unfair, all things considered. Breath was physical, and right now, she certainly wasn’t.

She wasn’t entirely sure what it was that was chasing her, only that it wasn’t good, and she didn’t want it to catch up with her. Granted, that was plenty here, in this not-place, but she’d known the risks going in. That there was a good chance of not making it out of this alive.

Even so, she had to try. For them.

The book tucked under her arm felt wrong in every way, but it was also the only thing she’d found that might help her. She couldn’t lose another kid to the Hatchetmen. She’d lost too many already, children with the touch of a gift they didn’t understand, enough to make them a beacon to those jailers and not enough that they could protect themselves from them. The Black Book, an ancient book of spells; it might just have what she was looking for.

It also might not. The book was evil. But perhaps there was a chance it could yet be used for good.

Of course, none of that would matter if she couldn’t get the damn thing out of here.

Holloway spared a glance for her companion—a small white spider that sat on her shoulder. She still wasn’t entirely sure what the arachnid actually was (things weren’t what they seemed, not here), but it acted benevolent, and was currently guiding her through the maze of the not-place she was currently traversing.

_Right,_ the spider told her. _Hurry._

Holloway obeyed. It wasn’t that she really trusted the spider, but it hadn’t steered her wrong yet. She turned and ran.

_Duck_ , the spider said.

Holloway did so, ducking her head, and there was a moment of disorientation before she burst from the not-place she’d been and back into her own mind. Immediately, she breathed more easily, as the need for air left her.

She stood in the middle of town, the buildings empty but well lit. It was a comforting sight. She made for the theater—the closest place with chairs she could sit down in.

She checked her shoulder. The spider still sat there, and though it didn’t have a face she could read, she got a smug sense of satisfaction from it.

“I don’t suppose this book will come with me when I wake up?” she asked it.

_I don’t know,_ the spider admitted.

Holloway pushed open the theater doors. “That’s too bad. Do you have a name?”

_Webby,_ the spider said.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Webby,” Holloway told it. “Thanks for guiding me back here.”

_Careful_ , the spider cautioned. _My brothers are coming._

“What?” Holloway questioned, sitting down in the auditorium and cracking the book open. Just scanning through it, she could already see a couple protection spells. And yes, one of the mild ones looked like it could be just what she needed, offering just enough protection and not requiring too much of a sacrifice—

The lights in the auditorium flickered and went out. Holloway sucked in a sharp breath as she looked up. A shadowy man stood on the stage, grinning down at her with a smile that was too sharp and dangerous to be comforting.

Holloway shoved away the chill that crept down her spine as she rose to her feet. “I don’t think you ought to be here,” she said.

“And I think you might have something that doesn’t belong to you, darling,” the man returned, his smile unchanging.

“I don’t think it should belong to anyone in the first place,” Holloway argued cautiously. “It shouldn’t exist. But that doesn’t change the fact that it does, does it?”

The man chuckled, a low rolling sound that filled the auditorium and quite possibly beyond it as well. “Why don’t you hand it over?”

“Why don’t you come and take it,” Holloway shot back.

The man removed a green apple from his pocket. “Oh, don’t think I won’t,” he told her. “I was a colonel once. A little witch like you isn’t much of a challenge.” He bit into the apple. The crunch sounded threatening.

“You don’t scare me,” Holloway lied.

“Yes I do,” the man chuckled. He tossed the apple towards her. It hit the ground a couple feet in front of her, and rolled the rest of the way, where she trapped it with her foot.

“You’re in _my_ mind,” Holloway reminded him, and pressed down with her foot. The apple dissolved into dust as the sole of her shoe hit the aisle. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

“Oh, really?” the man asked, looking shocked. “Oh! I didn’t even _realize_ —this is _your_ mind?!” He laughed, long and wild, before returning to that slightly crazed grin. “You opened the door to the Black and White so you could find that book. Only thing is, doors go both ways, don’t they. There’s always a price, isn’t there? A little quid-pro-quo. You walk through the door and _so can something else._ ”

“Maybe you should walk right back out that door, then,” Holloway said, frantically trying to come up with a way to close it after him.

The man’s grin grew just a little more unhinged. _“Maybe you should make me.”_

The next few seconds were a bit of a blur, though Holloway was certain that the man had dove at her first. There was a knife in his hand, an ugly black thing that hadn’t been there a moment before. The spider had abandoned her shoulder, jumping to the carpeted floor and ducking under the seats.

Holloway dodged back up the aisle, continuing to move just out of reach of the knife. The man’s swings were wild, and his expression was feral. There wasn’t enough room to dodge between these seats. She led him back up to the stage, jumping up to it and rolling away from another swing.

As he clambered up after her, she kicked out, sending the knife flying from his hand. He tackled her in retaliation, the book she’d been holding going skittering across the stage to rest next to the knife.

The world _SHOOK_. Something shattered. The man paused in his attack, surprised by the sensation they both felt. Cracks appeared in the wall of the theater.

_Uh oh_ , the spider said, sounding worried. Even distracted as she was, Holloway could feel as the alien presence left her mind. There would be time to consider that later, though.

She used the moment of distraction to shove the man off of her, and scrambled up, running across the stage, her hand reaching for—

**-HF-**

_The knife._

Her fingers closed around the hilt, swinging it around as the man loomed above her. Her swing missed, as he dodged with a practiced motion and locked a hand around her wrist. A twist had the knife falling from her fingers, and a sharp yank sent her falling back across the stage.

She landed heavily, head slamming against the hard wood beneath her. Before she could move, something fell—part of the lights that would normally shine on the stage, collapsing under the shaking and cracking of the theater around them, crashed into her chest, sending a wave of pain through her and trapping one of her arms beneath in a strange position. It might have been broken. At least one rib was.

The thought that she was in her own mind and therefore really should have to worry about physical injuries drifted across her thoughts. She tried to latch onto it, but her other arm erupted in pain.

Holloway looked upwards, vision blurry with tears, to see the man looming over her. The knife was held in one hand, the book in the other.

“You know,” he said conversationally, “I know why you wanted this old thing. Lots of kids out there you wanted to help. It’s cute. It is. In fact, I’m gonna do you a favor. I’m gonna make sure that no more kids get dragged off by those Hatchetmen. Might take a few years, but they won’t get anyone else. Sure, it’ll be more because there’s no one left to take, but hey, progress is progress, am I right?”

Holloway managed a moan and a slight shake of the head.

“And don’t you worry about this old book,” he continued. “I’m gonna take _real_ good care of it.” He paused a moment, an almost thoughtful note to it. “Think I just might take care of that jacket of yours, too. I like the look of it.”

The last thing she knew was the swing of the knife and a blinding pain at her throat.

**-HF-**

_The book._

Her fingers closed around the leather binding, drawing it closer to herself as the man went for the knife next to it. She stood up, spinning to face him as he swung the knife again.

This time, she swung the book to meet it, using both hands, landing a blow at his hand and wrist. He shouted, the knife going flying again, and she swung a second time, this time catching him across the face.

As he went down, she ran for the knife. She reached just as he was climbing to his feet again, and spun to face him. There was a snarl on his face as he charged her, and with a cry, she brought the knife up sharply.

It sunk deep into his rib cage.

“Oh,” he said, looking down at it with an expression of mild surprise. “...Fuck.”

He hit the ground, blood already starting to pool around his body. Holloway staggered backwards, her back hitting a wall, and sunk into a seated position, staring at the body in front of her.

She’d just killed a man. In her mind.

_She’d just killed a man._

Several lights detached themselves from the ceiling and came crashing down to the stage. They landed heavily, sending shattering glass everywhere.

Holloway remembered abruptly that she would need to find some way to close her mind again. And that there was a dead body in front of her. The body of a very evil man that she had just killed with what looked to be some sort of ritualistic dagger.

She looked at the book in her hand, then back to the body, which still had the dagger sticking out of it.

“Shit,” she said eloquently.

When she awoke hours later, it was with a newly protected mind, and new methods of protecting the children of Hatchetfield. Her hands shook, but they clutched the Black Book that had not been there when she’d gone to sleep.

She wouldn’t lose any more children. No matter _what_ lengths she’d have to go to.

**Author's Note:**

> You know, I first thought that Hannah had shattered time. I'm not sure that's true anymore, but hell if I can't still theorize about it.


End file.
